Imagine Book 2

Walls- Annie Leonhart (Attack On Titan)

Male Y/N

𝓢𝓶𝓾𝓽 𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰

The evening sun cast long shadows across the training grounds as Y/N watched Annie demolish yet another sparring partner. Her technique was flawless as always – efficient, ruthless, beautiful in its precision. She helped her opponent up with a curt nod before walking away, not sparing a glance at anyone else. Not even him.

Y/N had spent months trying to break through those walls she built around herself. Small gestures at first – saving her a seat at meal times (which she ignored), offering to be her sparring partner (which she refused), attempting conversation about combat techniques (which she shut down with monosyllabic responses). Nothing seemed to work. Annie Leonhart was determined to keep everyone at arm's length.

But Y/N noticed things others didn't. The slight tremor in her hands when she thought no one was looking. The dark circles under her eyes growing deeper each day. The way she would stare into the distance during training, lost in thoughts that seemed to weigh heavier than any titan.

Today was different. As Y/N headed to the barracks after dinner, he caught sight of Annie slipping away from the main path, heading toward the forest edge. Something about her posture seemed off – her usual rigid control wavered slightly. Without thinking, he followed.

"You're not as stealthy as you think," Annie's voice cut through the twilight air. She stood with her back to him, facing a massive tree.

Y/N stepped out from behind the bushes. "I wasn't trying to be stealthy. I was worried about you."

"Worried?" She scoffed, but there was something different in her tone. "Why do you keep doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Following me. Trying to talk to me. Acting like you care." Her voice held an edge of frustration he'd never heard before.

"Because I do care," Y/N said simply, taking a careful step forward. "And because I see you, Annie. The real you – not just the warrior everyone else sees."

She spun around, and for the first time, Y/N saw genuine emotion crack through her carefully maintained facade. "You don't see anything," she spat, but her voice trembled. "You don't know me. You can't know me."

"Then let me." He took another step closer. "You don't have to carry whatever this is alone."

Something in Annie's eyes flickered – like a candle flame wavering in the wind. "You don't understand what you're asking for." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Try me."

The silence between them felt electric. Annie's breathing was slightly uneven, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. Y/N had never seen her this undone before.

"I can't..." she started, then stopped, frustration evident in every line of her body. "This isn't... I'm not..."

Y/N waited, patient and steady, offering what he hoped was a safe harbour in the storm of whatever she was battling.

What happened next caught him completely off guard. Annie moved with the same swift precision she showed in combat, but instead of a strike, she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down to her level. Their lips crashed together with an intensity that knocked the breath from his lungs.

The kiss was nothing like Y/N had imagined (and he had imagined it, in quiet moments he'd never admit to). It wasn't gentle or sweet – it was desperate, almost angry. Annie kissed like she fought: with purpose, with power, with something to prove. Her fingers dug into his shirt, pulling him closer as if she could somehow anchor herself through this connection.